He let go. I collapsed, gasping, my vision spinning.

"You're not off the hook," he muttered, then turned to the doctor. "Drain her. All of it. Leave just enough to keep her alive."

The doctor hesitated. "Sir, her vitals aren't stable. She's not strong enough after what happened yesterday. The blood bank—"

Dominic grabbed him by the throat and shoved him hard against the wall. "I said drain her. You work for me, not the fucking Red Cross."

The doctor didn't argue after that. His men held me down as they jabbed a needle in. I felt the blood leaving, slowly. Cold, dizzy, fading.

And then… darkness.

I woke to a bucket of ice water crashing down on me. Gasping, soaked, shaking. My head was heavy. My vision was blurry.

"Get up!" Dominic snapped.

I tried to stand but my knees buckled and I hit the floor hard. He grabbed me by the hair, yanking me up like a rag doll. I cried out.

"Dominic! Stop, please! I'm cold—" I begged.

"You think I give a shit?" he barked. "You think I don't know what you did?"

I stared at him, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You had someone snatch my daughter!" he shouted in my face. "Lucia is missing! And while you're here pretending to be dying, your dogs are out trying to get revenge."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It was ugly and broken.

"You really just said that to me," I whispered. "You really said your daughter. The same kid you had while married to me."

He sneered. "Valentina is the mother of my children. You knew about her. You just didn't like being second place."

"And you think I'd hurt a child?" I snapped. "Did you remember what innocence meant when my baby died in that garbage bin?"

He didn't flinch.

"Spare me the drama. I've got proof."

His soldiers dragged in a skinny, bruised man who looked like he hadn't eaten in a week. The kind of man the Family kept on retainer for exactly this purpose — disposable, desperate, willing to recite whatever script kept him breathing another hour.

"She paid me," he sobbed, pointing at me. "She said take the kid… kill him if you have to. I didn't know he was yours, Boss. Please, don't kill me."

I stared. "I've never seen this man in my life."

"You never stop lying, do you?!" Dominic yelled. He grabbed my arm so hard I felt something pop. "You'll confess or you'll pay," he growled.

"I didn't do anything."

Next thing I knew, we were on the jet. His private one. The Castellano family plane — the kind people only boarded once when they crossed him. He didn't say a word for the first hour. Then, two thousand feet up, he stood, unlocked the door, and yanked it open. Wind howled inside.

"Last chance," he said, voice like death. "Say you did it."

My heart slammed against my ribs. "Dominic, I didn't! Please, close the damn door!"

He smirked. "You always said you were scared of heights." He stepped closer.

"Dominic. Dominic, please!"

He leaned in. "Then scream for me, sweetheart."

And with a shove… I was falling.

The roar of the sky swallowed my scream.

I woke up screaming.

My throat was raw, my hands flailing as if I was still falling, still reaching for something that never caught me.

Then everything snapped into focus.

The white ceiling. The sharp scent of antiseptic. The steady beep of a monitor beside me.

I was in a hospital. One of the Castellano-owned clinics, from the look of it — no questions asked, no records filed. The kind of place where men came in on stretchers and left in body bags, and nobody ever called the law.

"You're safe now, Mrs. Castellano," the doctor said softly beside me, but I barely registered him.

Because I wasn't alone.

Dominic stood near the door, arms crossed, cold as ever. Valentina was curled up in a chair beside my bed, fake tears glistening on her lashes. And of course, his mother — Ginevra Castellano, the Queen of Hell herself — stood with her nose in the air like the place reeked of me. Her fingers rested against the strand of pearls at her throat, already adjusting them, already preparing whatever cruelty she'd brought to deliver.

"How are you feeling?" Valentina asked gently, her voice trembling. One hand rested flat against her stomach, pressing there as though protecting something. She was always protecting something that wasn't real.

I ignored her and turned to the doctor. "What the hell happened?"

Before he could speak, Dominic stepped forward, jaw tight with rage. "What happened?" he scoffed. "Valentina saved your damn life, that's what. I shoved you, yeah, and she, this angel you hate, threatened to blow her head off if I didn't grab you before you hit the ground. So I did. And you still passed out. She hasn't slept in two days, watching over you. And this is how you repay her?"

I laughed. A bitter, cracked laugh that bubbled out of me until tears rolled down my cheeks. "You're really gonna stand there and act like you care?"

I turned to him slowly, my voice sharp enough to cut bone. "You tried to kill me, Dominic. You almost fucking killed me. And now you want applause because you almost let me die?"

"You ungrateful little bitch," his mother spat. "You should've been left on that ground. Would've saved us all some trouble."

"Yeah," I snapped, eyes locked on Dominic. "Maybe you should've let me die. You and Valentina wouldn't have to lie anymore about what you did to my baby."

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating. The monitor beeped into nothing. Even the soldier posted outside the door seemed to go still, the way men in this world went still when the air in a room turned to something they didn't want to witness.

Dominic finally scoffed and turned away. "She's clearly high as shit on morphine. Let's go, Valentina."

But Valentina didn't move. Instead, she clutched my hand like we were childhood best friends.

"This is all my fault," she whispered through crocodile tears. "I'm sorry, Sofia. I never meant for things to go this far."

I jerked my hand away so fast she stumbled. "Get the hell away from me."

Dominic caught her like a knight saving his queen, then turned to me with that look — the one that made men in his own Family flinch. "You better be grateful, Sofia. If Valentina wasn't so soft, I would've broken every bone in your body for how you speak to her."

They left without another word. Ginevra followed, pearls gleaming under the fluorescent light, not sparing me a backward glance.

The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I want to go home," I said, my voice hollow.

He nodded and quietly prepared my release.

When I got back to the compound, the first thing I saw waiting for me was the thick envelope. The divorce papers. They'd finally come. I went inside and grabbed my resignation letter too — the document severing me from every legal tie to the Castellano name and its operations. All I needed now was Dominic's signature. And he'd never sign them if he knew what they were.

Just as I was strategizing, he walked in without knocking, tossing a black garment bag at me.

"Put that on," he ordered. "We've got a sit-down with the Russians in twenty. I'm taking Valentina, but you're my assistant. You need to look useful."

"Why not let your whore handle it?" I said, not bothering to hide the venom in my tone.

"She'll be on my arm. You'll be in the background where you belong."

I grabbed the documents and shoved them at him. "Sign these. They're my hospital release forms."

He frowned, flipping to the last page. "What the hell is this?"

Just then, Valentina's voice rang out from the hall like a siren. "Baby! Come see how hot I look!"

His expression softened in a blink. A stupid, lovesick grin took over. Without thinking, he signed both pages and tossed them back at me.

He didn't even read them.

I should've cried. I should've screamed. But I was glad.

It meant he hadn't seen the envelope I'd left hidden in my coat pocket: Petition for Divorce and a letter relinquishing every claim to the Castellano name. Both stamped and signed. My final acts before disappearing from this bloodstained life.

I slipped into the tight black dress Dominic once bought me. Low-cut, elegant, dangerous. It hugged my bruises like silk bandages, turning me into the perfect illusion of a woman who wasn't quietly falling apart.

Downstairs, I caught him staring.

But the second Valentina walked in, all perfume and lipstick and smugness, I disappeared again.

On the drive to the event, I sat in the backseat, silent, staring out at the glittering city I was preparing to leave behind. Two soldiers followed in a black Escalade. Even a dinner required an escort. That was life inside the Castellano compound. Nothing was ever just dinner.

Valentina was all giggles and claws in the passenger seat, curled into Dominic's side like she belonged there.

"This is the car we first kissed in," she purred, trailing her fingers up his arm. "Do you remember how wild we got that night?"

Dominic shifted. "Yes, babe," he muttered, then glanced at me in the rearview.

But I didn't flinch. I was too busy confirming my flight on the phone held low against my knee, the screen dimmed to nothing. Tomorrow night. No more Family. No more betrayal. No more Dominic Castellano.

As I leaned back, something crinkled beneath me. I reached down and froze.

A wet, lacy thong lay on the seat beside me.

My stomach twisted.

Before I could speak, Valentina turned and laughed. "Oh nooo," she said with a mock-gasp. "Oops. That's mine! Dominic, I told you not to leave it in the car!"

She giggled, like it was a joke between lovers.

"I thought you hid my thong after last night."

Dominic didn't even look ashamed. He plucked the soaked scrap of fabric from the seat and raised it to his nose.

He sniffed.

"Hm. Peaches," he said, smirking. Then casually tucked it into his pocket.

I nearly vomited.

Not from disgust. From hatred. From how small he was, and how low I'd let myself fall to love a man like him. They laughed like teenagers in heat while I sat behind them, trapped in their filth.

But I smiled. Quiet. Calm.

Because by this time tomorrow, they'd wake up to a world without me and without my silence. And that silence? It was the last gift they'd ever get from me.

We arrived at the venue. A private club on the waterfront, owned by an allied Family. Crystal chandeliers, a string quartet, men in handmade suits whose tailors knew better than to ask about the bulge beneath the left arm. Valentina hung off his arm like a trophy while I followed behind like a servant. Every time someone called her Mrs. Castellano, I saw Dominic flinch. But he didn't correct them. Not once.

Near the end of the event, just when I thought I could finally breathe, chaos broke loose.

Gunshots.

Screams.

People hit the floor. The quartet scattered.

And the first thing Dominic did?

He threw himself over Valentina, shielding her like she was made of gold.

I stood there frozen, and before I could move, pain seared through my side. A bullet. I gasped, collapsing, blood soaking through my dress.

"D-Dominic…" I whimpered, reaching for him. "Help…"

He glanced back. For a moment, I saw something in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Love? No. Pity.

He ran to me, pressed his hand on the wound.

"Hold on, Sofia. Fuck! You'll be okay. Just hang in there."

But then—

"Dominic!" Valentina screamed. "The baby! I can't move!"

And just like that, he dropped me. Didn't hesitate. Didn't look back. He scooped Valentina into his arms like some hero in a romance movie.

"You're strong, Sofia," he said over his shoulder. "You'll survive. But I can't risk her. Or our baby."

Then they vanished through the exit while I lay bleeding on the floor.

Alone.

Left behind by a man who once promised to protect me.

And in Valentina's smug smirk as she looked back, I saw it. She'd won. For now.

Gunshots echoed outside the doors, and I stayed hidden, bleeding, shivering. No one came. Not Dominic. Not even his soldiers.

When I finally crawled out, half-conscious from blood loss, the bastards had already cleared out. Left me there in the middle of a deal gone sideways.

The hospital patched me up. Again. The nurse didn't even flinch this time. She knew me by name.

When I got back to the estate, I expected silence. Regret. Maybe someone had been looking for me.

Instead, I found them at the long table in the dining hall. Dominic. Valentina. Lucia. His mother. His right-hand man Tomasso. Laughing. Drinking wine. Eating steak.

Like I hadn't just taken a bullet meant for him.

Dominic's smile faltered when he saw me. Guilt flashed in his eyes, but it passed quick, like everything else with him.

"I had to take Valentina to the ER," he said, walking over. "She was in critical condition."

"Yeah?" I said, voice flat. "Guess I wasn't."

I didn't wait for a response. I just turned and climbed the stairs to our bedroom. Our prison cell, more like. I pulled out the old wooden box I kept under the bed. Love letters, pictures, our wedding ring, vows written on napkins from that chapel in Vegas where he'd sworn on his dead father's name that I'd never be alone again.

I carried the box outside and dumped it into the steel barrel in the courtyard behind the compound.

Lit a match. Tossed it in.

Watched it burn.

All of it. The good years. The fake ones. The lies.

Dominic stormed out when he smelled the smoke. "What the hell are you doing?!"

He grabbed the fire extinguisher, but it was too late. All he saved was a half-burnt photo of our wedding, his hand still on my waist, me smiling like a damn fool.

"You've lost it," he growled. "Are you insane?!"

I looked him dead in the eyes. "I want a divorce."

He froze. Something flickered across his face… panic? Rage? A glimmer of the man he used to be?

Then the sneer came. "You think you can just leave me?" he spat. "You got no money. No name. No power. This life, my life, you wouldn't last a damn day without it."

I turned away.

But before I could take another step, his hand clamped around my arm. Tight, bruising.

"The Old Don liked you, that's the only reason you became my wife," he hissed, breath hot with fury. "You think you earned this? Without me, you're nothing. You can't even feed yourself. And now you want a divorce?"

I stared at his hand gripping my skin. Then I pulled away. Quiet. Calm. Like tearing off dead weight.

"I'd rather starve," I said. And walked away.

Back into the compound. Back into the silence. And just as I walked upstairs, his voice rang out one last time, desperate.

"Sofia!"

I paused but not for him.

A small pair of feet ran toward the door.

"Daddy!" the little girl cried, Valentina's daughter, his daughter. "Daddy, I won't eat if you don't feed me."

Her voice cracked.

He turned to her. Hesitated.

And I? I kept walking.

Because for once… his hunger was no longer mine to feed.

By morning, the sky was clear.

I woke up smiling for the first time in years.

Because today was the day I left this cursed empire behind.

When I opened the door, Dominic was standing there, holding a single white rose. My favorite.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know I messed up."

His voice was gentle. His eyes were soft.

Just like the first time he pulled me into his world of blood, betrayal, and power disguised as love.

He held out a box wrapped in gold ribbon. Inside was a flowing yellow dress. Silk. Effortless. Radiant. My favorite color.

"I booked a place for us," he said. "Same spot where we had our first date."

I stared at him, stunned for a moment. And then I smiled.

A small, practiced, polite smile.

"Fine."

He left humming, like he'd won me back.

Inside, I sank onto the bed and checked my phone, confirming my flight one last time.

As I scrolled, memory crept in like a ghost from another lifetime…

Paris. Four years ago.

I was twenty-three, still naïve enough to believe that flowers could mean forever.

He took my hand as we stepped out of the car into a candlelit rooftop garden overlooking the Eiffel Tower. The entire terrace had been emptied just for us. The music was soft. Jazz. Strings.

And then… A sudden gust of wind stirred the air, and I gasped.

Thousands of rose petals fluttered down from above, scattered like crimson snow, spiraling in the Parisian night.

Dominic laughed and pulled me close. "I told you," he whispered, "I'd give you anything."

My eyes filled with tears. "Even the sky?"

He grinned. "Especially the sky."

I remember how his lips tasted like wine when he kissed me under the rain of roses. How I told myself, This must be what love feels like. This. Right here.

Back in the present, I blinked the memory away.

Because now I knew better. That kind of love wasn't real. It was a sedative. A lie with lace gloves.

Today, I'd wear the yellow dress.

I'd let him take me to the place he thought still had power over me.

I'd even smile. But when I left that table… I'd never come back. Not as his wife. Not as his victim. Not as his anything.

A text from Alessio lit up the screen.

"Today's the day, baby. No backing out."

"I'm in," I replied. "Let it burn."

I stacked three gift boxes on the bed. Anniversary gifts for our five-year mark. Of course, Dominic didn't remember. Men like him only remember what benefits them.

Just as I was zipping the dress, the door burst open.

Dominic. Valentina. And that venomous old woman he called "Mama."

Valentina looked like she'd been rehearsing in front of a mirror.

"You set us up?!" Dominic shouted, storming across the room. Before I could even react, his palm cracked across my face.

Then his mother slapped me. Twice. Hard and fast. Knocking me to the floor.

"You knew the Russians were coming! Just to test if Dominic would save you? Are you sick in the head?" Valentina shrieked.

"If you're gonna kill me, fine," she sobbed dramatically, her hand pressed flat against her stomach. "But spare my babies, please!"

"You ungrateful snake," Ginevra snapped, the strand of pearls at her throat shifting as she adjusted them with deliberate fingers. "You think we owe you something after everything he's done for you?"

They all screamed, cursed, kicked at my name like it was filth.

And I said nothing.

Because at that moment… I felt nothing.

"I gotta clean up your mess," Dominic spat. "You're not leaving this compound. Stay here. Think real hard about what you just did. I'll deal with you later."

He slammed the door behind him.

I grabbed my phone.

Dialed.

"Alessio," I whispered.

"Tell me, baby girl."

"I changed my mind," I said calmly. "Release the footage. Send the evidence to every family on the Commission. Start the fire. I want him to watch his kingdom crumble before I board that plane."

Alessio chuckled. "Already done. Your ride's out front."

I stepped out. A small black sedan waiting by the gate. No Castellano plates. No flags. Clean.

The driver opened the door with a small nod. "Welcome, Mistress."

As we pulled away from the estate, I looked back one last time.

And smiled. Let them burn. Every last one of them. Dominic. Valentina. That snake pit he called a family.

They wanted a war? They just made the mistake of forgetting who they married.

At the airport, I walked through security with nothing but a passport, a boarding pass, and the weight of everything they took from me.

The plane doors closed and my phone lit up.

Dominic Castellano – Calling…

Decline.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I let it ring. Let him suffer. Let him feel the silence he sentenced me to but on the fourth call, I answered.

I didn't let him speak. I brought the phone to my lips, stared out the window as the engines began to roar, and said:

"FUCK YOU, DOMINIC."

Then I hung up.

And flew.